


War Crimes

by ElizaRocks9902



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Mulan (1998)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 15:28:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10493898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaRocks9902/pseuds/ElizaRocks9902





	1. Bitter Defeat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leia1998 (Leia1998)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leia1998/gifts).



I failed. I _failed_. If I return home I will shame my parents. If I return my father will have to put me to death. My vision grew blurry as I stared at the snow coated ground, completely still. I sat on my knees with nothing to cover me but a blanket and my small clothes. I grasped at the edges tightly, my fingers white as I tried to keep the chill from seeping in to my bones. I grit my teeth and swallowed hard as a tear fell from my eye and marked the snow beneath me.

Standing up haggardly, I started to slowly move forward, trying to find a place away from the harsh wilderness surrounding me. I groaned in relief when I felt soft warm fur grace my left hand, and I gripped Nymeria's fur desperately as my legs gave out. I heard her whimper in a sad tone, and I looked into her deep brown eyes with silver orbs of my own, biting my tongue before hurling myself onto her back. She had grown rather large over the year we had been at war, and my being so small was far from a bad thing. Nymeria, Gods bless her, started moving slowly, taking me away from the scene of my greatest shame.

It was beyond that of being rejected by every suitor whom had come to Winterfell and afterwords decided I wasn't good enough for them; beyond my failures when I first joined the army and went through the harsh training regimen. It was far worse than any mockery I had ever endured, and as I lay across Nymeria's back, I cried. I buried my face into her inviting fur and cried. I had seen the wildlings pull themselves from their snowy confines like spring daisies; I had watched them find the tracks the army had left behind and follow suit. I had seen their bloodthirsty expressions and the way they clutched so lovingly to their weapons, and I had never felt more hopeless in my life.

"Nymeria, what would you do?"


	2. The Great Hall

The hall was alive. The music was loud, the booze was flowing freely, and everyone was either on their feet or eating some of the moist pork that father and his men had caught not two days previous. It had been seasoned and cooked by the best chef in the North, and everyone could testify to the delight it gave to ones' taste buds. A bright smile was on my face as I danced with Jon, slightly tipsy from the wine father had taken out of storage for this special occasion. Tonight was the night that other lords from different part of the North would come and get to know both Sansa and myself. Father was letting us pick, and I was happy for the freedom to chose whom I desired. I knew it was something not every woman was offered, and since tonight was to be my last night free of a man, I was letting loose as much as I was allowed for the special occurrence.

When Lord Bolton and his bastard son strode into the hall with a few of their men behind them, I couldn't help but shudder when I felt Ramsay Bolton's eyes on my person. I quickly looked back up into Jon's inviting silver eyes and smiled sadly, sighing in relief when he understood my discomfort and started twirling me away from the Bolton's.

"May I have this dance?" My breath caught in my throat, and I saw in Jon's eyes both hidden anger and the reflection of Ramsay Bolton.

"Of course, my lord," I said quietly, slowly tearing myself away from John to dance with Ramsay. He tried buttering me up, tried pulling me into a conversation, but I said no more than what was absolutely necessary, and never once cracked a smile. When the song ended, we slowed and clapped our thanks to the musicians before they started up another song. Throughout the entirety of the dance, Ramsay kept at his little game, trying to get me to kiss him, or bare to him my neck, but I found refusal to be my best weapon. When the song finally ended, I curtsied low to him before excusing myself to go back to the table. With my mood thoroughly soured by the lackluster treatment I had just received, I sat down in my seat at the high table and started to eat my fully replenished plate, taking sips of my wine from my newly filled cup from time to time. After a while I finally polished off my plate and drank the last drop of my second glass of wine, and I stood up to make my way towards the dance floor.

Feeling a tap on my shoulder, I saw that it was Ramsay once more. Forcing a smile on my face, I greeted him. Just as he was about to ask me for a dance, I felt another tap on my shoulder, and turned to see Robb standing there with a smile directed at me, and a vicious glare pointed at Ramsay.

"Care to dance with me sister?" Robb asked, holding out a hand. I nodded quickly and took his hand, allowing him to lead me to the floor. Slowly, as I was turned this way and that, I saw Sansa surrounded by various men, all vying for her attention like starved puppies.

"What do they see in her?" I asked, a frown on my brow.

"They see a fully grown woman. Do not worry sister, you just have yet to fully mature." I scoffed. As if that wasn't something I wasn't aware of. Despite my love for food and mass intake of it, I never seemed to mature physically; no shape seemed to grace my body, and I was already 15 years of age. I had only flowered but a year ago even, whereas Sansa started at the ripe age of 12. She was already amazingly developed, and here I was, without a single ounce of womanly curve to boast of, and it was getting to me. Whereas Sansa could smile and woo anyone who glance her way, my mere presence seemed to infuriate people. Sighing, I leaned my head against Robb's chest and allowed him to sweep me across the floor, my mind full of scenarios where I was the one adored by men, and Sansa was the one to look on in jealousy. When the song ended I curtsied to Robb and thanked him before leaving back to my seat.


	3. Disappointment

"Arya, the only house that asked for your hand was House Bolton. I saw you dancing and socializing with him that first night. Would you accept his offer?" I stared at father in horror, my hands clasped together in my lap.

"Father I...I can't marry Ramsay! He's awful! He tried to kiss my lips and neck on our second dance together, and I can't help but feel...uneasy about him." I begged my case to father, and I winced when he sighed and put his head in his hands.

"Arya, there are some things that I cannot help. I feel the need to explain the situation to you, lest you grow angry with me." I watched him, worry and curiosity within my eyes as he paced back and forth behind his desk, and I started chewing my bottom lip heavily with my teeth.

"The Wildlings have gotten passed the Wall." My eyes widened, and I felt the color drain from my face. I closed my eyes and let my head fall down, awful anticipation to his words filling me limbs.

"To unite the North, I need to ensure that the houses will remain loyal to House Stark, and thus marriages will have to be made. Arya I...You realize that if there were any other way, I wouldn't force you to do this, right?" I nodded, my eyes growing watery.

"Yes father," I answered, my tone weak yet even.

"You may go Arya," he said as I heard him sit down at his desk once more. I didn't even bother to look up as I started for the door, trying to get away from the situation as soon as possible.


	4. Anger

_Sansa_. Even when I thought the name I snarled.  _This is all her fault!_ I screeched inwardly as I glared at my nude reflection, small hands balled into fists and an evil look in my eyes. Screaming, I punched the mirror, shattering it into pieces before turning on my heel and storming over to my hope chest. Inside were various items mother had both bought or made for me over the years for a time in which I would be married, and I would want things to decorate my living space with. Pulling out the knife set Jon had bought me many birthdays ago, I opened up the satchel and pulled out the biggest knife. Taking it to the shattered glass, I took the knife and gripped my hair, taking the blade to my brown locks with a quick cutting motion.

My long, waist length hair fell to the ground, and I grit my teeth in disgust.  _Why can't I be like Sansa?! Why can't I be perfect too?!_ I knew I was asking myself those questions, but I heard them spoken with the voice of my lady mother, bitter and angry. Hissing, I cut off the last of my hair till it was ear length, and I started to pack. I was mad, furious even, and my thoughts were neither good nor smart. However, when I managed to escape Winterfell under the guise of night, I realized that there would be no return, that I would never be able to undo what I had done. However, I neither cared nor wanted to, and thus I didn't so much as look back as I rode away on my horse Scarlet.


	5. Farmhand

_Shit. Shit everywhere,_ I grumbled inwardly as I forked the horse dung into a wheelbarrow, sweat trickling down my face. The cold in the barn whipped at every inch of skin that wasn't covered by my bulky fur clothes, and I hated how my hands were freezing yet my chest felt like it would melt off my body. Sighing, I took yet another break in my work, wiping the teasing sweat from my brow and taking a few short breaths before returning to my work. I had left Winterfell not one week before and already I had almost been caught twice. The first time I had to rush to the stream and walk for a short while in its depths before returning to the farm, and by then the soldiers had already moved on. The second time I was so caked with sweat, mud, and horse dung the dogs were unable to tell that I was the person they were searching for.

Not a single soldier had passed by since then, and so all I could do was assume that they were already searching somewhere else. Currently, I was the second farmhand for a middle aged couple with two sons, and I knew that the farmhand who was here before me was far from happy with my presence. Like with most everybody, I angered him without reason, and so he tried his best to stay as far from me as possible. Perhaps it was because I was so weak from never doing a mans job, or because I ate so much food for doing so little compared to him, but that wasn't something I enjoyed thinking of. Most of my time was spent focusing on the work assigned to me, and the only pass-times I had were eating supper and sleeping.

Of course, there was one time but three days ago when I was told to play with the farms sons when there wasn't much I could do, but they seemed to like me well enough.

 _When will I be ready to leave?_ I asked myself as I started to push the wheelbarrow towards the fertilizer pile, emptying it out with much difficulty before wheeling it back into the barn once more.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Silver. Flashes of silver cut through the dark night and struck out against the thick bark of the oak tree before me, making slashes and ragged cuts along it as I threw myself into the 'training'.

Truly, I was just going through motions that I had seen my brothers go through time and time again whenever I passed by the training field, and I wasn't fond of how I didn't know if I was doing them correctly or not. After an hour or so I stopped, putting the knife back with the others before heading back to my sleeping quarters. The family had allowed me to sleep in the barns' loft, and thus that was where I found myself, curled up and eyes itching to close.

That night, my dreams were full of bright flashing colors, and though I knew it had meaning, I could not decipher it. A first, there were flashes of blue, the color of my mothers eyes, before a vibrant green took over. It reminded me of the first patches of grass popping up after a summer snow, all brightly colored and glaringly different from the mud and stone surrounding it.

Then my vision turned a pure white, the color of freshly fallen snow, but slowly a bright red seeped into the white from the middle, slowly growing darker and extending to the outer corners of my vision. I assumed that it was blood, blood that would fall upon the snow of the North, but beyond that I had no idea what it all could mean.

When I awoke, I found an unpleasant kink in my neck and a pain in my lower back. Of course, when I felt something sticky between my legs, I groaned and reached downwards. Sure enough, my fingers were colored red, and I moved for my bag to grab some rags.

After cleaning myself up, I once more started my daily work. When I retired for the night, as the sun had finally set, I grabbed a fresh rag and headed for the stream to wash myself off. It was far away from the house, and no one ever went with me, so I could safely clean myself without them finding out about my true gender.

After washing both my clothes and the rag, I started to wash myself off, enjoying the feeling of dirt being scraped from my skin. I rubbed my skin raw, and my scalp was well scratched by my nails before I deemed it time to get out. My clothes were still wet, and the cold water that clung to my skin only made the cold air licking at me worse, but I managed to get back to the barn before the droplets of water on my skin managed to turn to ice.

That night, I dreamed of a snowy field harshly attacked by winters wind, and a man with curly red hair walking through it towards me with ease. I was seemingly frozen in my spot, and I was unable to move as he lifted his wrangled ax and chopped down on my throat. I could feel the pain as if it had truly happened, and as I fell to the ground in my dream I bolted upright in real life.

Gasping harshly, I clamped my hands over my chest before I stood up and started preparing my pack.

_I need to go, and I need to go now._


End file.
